


"I'm sorry."

by anthrop



Series: Ghost Stories [3]
Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Gen, Phanniemay, Post-Phantom Planet, relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-11
Updated: 2013-06-11
Packaged: 2017-12-14 16:43:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/839083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anthrop/pseuds/anthrop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Together you turn the corner to Fenton Works, and Valerie Gray is sitting on your front steps.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"I'm sorry."

**Author's Note:**

> If I was any proper kind of shipper this would be the part that basically boiled down to "Gray Ghost or bust," but honestly I just love Valerie's character to bits and wanted some canon compliant resolution between these two losers.
> 
> Title comes from Ladytron's [Ghosts (Toxic Avenger Remix)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ry6_OLphTUo).

A week after your statue is unveiled outside City Hall, you and Sam are walking home hand in hand. She’s criticizing the movie you just saw together, and you can’t help the dopey smile you have as you watch her. She’s just so animated, so actively focused. You could watch her forever, and for the millionth time since Antarctica you marvel at your good fortune. Sam mistakes your self-deprecating grin for teasing and punches you in the arm. Your dad’s class ring digs into your shoulder, but you don’t mind at all.

Together you turn the corner to Fenton Works, and Valerie Gray is sitting on your front steps.

Sam’s hand immediately tightens in yours. “What are _you_ doing here?” she asks, her voice accusing, thorny.

Valerie raises one cool eyebrow. “I think you know,” she replies.

“Danny doesn’t owe you _anything_ \--“

“Sam, wait.” You know what Valerie wants, why she’s here without warning. You’ve been waiting for this moment--not consciously, no, but it’d settled like a paper weight in the back of your mind. Now that the time has come, you feel like you can stand a little straighter than you’ve grown used to. You put your hand on Sam’s shoulder, and she jerks her head to look at you. Her eyes are dark in the late afternoon light, her bare shoulders tense.

“I do owe her,” you say.

Her face twists, but she doesn’t rebuke you. Her jaw clenches and she shrugs your hand off to point one finger at Valerie like a rapier. “If there’s even a _scratch_ on him, I swear I’ll--“

“You’ll what?” Valerie makes no emphasis, and yet the amused puckering of her lips says more than enough. But Sam doesn’t take the bait. She gives you one last look, too quick for you to parse, and then she’s slamming the front door behind her hard enough to rattle the second story windows.

You stand there awkwardly until you realize Valerie’s waiting on you, and then words spill out of you like an idiot fountain you can’t stop. “So, uh, how have you been? I haven’t really seen you around since, gosh, Antarctica. That sure was a close call, wasn’t it? I’m really glad the ghosts pulled through, there was a minute there I thought they were just going to waste me--uh. I bet you’re glad to be back! Right? It was like negative twenty the whole time we were there, but I didn’t really notice since--uh, yeah. That! You’re probably wondering why I never told you about all that and also why I didn’t talk to you at all since we got back but honestly I don’t have any excuses, haha wow, why am I still talking, please feel free to punch me in the face at any time because I totally deserve it for--“

“Shut up, Fenton.”

Unhappily, you do just that.

Valerie stands and brushes the back of her skirt off. Here every motion is clean, controlled. You honestly half-expect her to pull a bazooka from... wherever she keeps her gear now, but she just laughs quietly, jerking her head towards the front door. “That’s some dragon lady you’ve got there,” she says, not unkindly. “You sure you can handle her?”

Your laugh in comparison to hers is brash, obnoxious, and nervous borderlining on panicky. “You have no idea. Remember freshman prom?”

She stops smiling. “I didn’t go.”

“Oh. Right.” Open mouth, insert foot. You clear your throat. “So, uh, I guess you want to talk about--y’know--right?”

“I don’t _want_ anything from you,” she says, and you can’t help but flinch. Her face softens however, and the afternoon light glints off of her teeth. “But I think I _need_ to talk about--y’know.”

“Me too,” you agree eagerly, because you know what she means. You’ve felt the same way for a long time, longer than you liked to think about. The thought of finally being able to clear the air between you eases something in your chest that’s been tense for--too long.

You very nearly swallow your tongue when Valerie spreads her arms, suddenly bathed in pink light. Instincts scream at you to dodge the attack you know is coming, to phase intangible, to even go invisible like the total coward you are, but you don’t. You just stand there, hands empty, eyes squeezed shut. She’s entitled one good shot at you. You deserve it.

Except nothing happens.

When you look, she’s smirking at you through her visor, hands on her hips, perfectly balanced on her board five feet above the sidewalk. “You comin’ or what, Ghost Kid?”

You stand there like an idiot. “Huh?”

“I was thinking we could go someplace a little more... private?” She jabs a thumb towards the living room window. Sam’s face is pressed up against the glass, her expression livid.

“Oh. Right. Right!” You drop your hands, but you don’t change, because--well, _because_. “If--“ You swallow. “Are you sure?”

Valerie nods.

You look around, out of habit more than anything, and reach for the cold at your center. You don’t break eye contact with her, nor she you. Her hands don’t so much as twitch when you float up beside her.

“Lead the way,” you say, and you both smile.

As you fly together, you think that maybe, just maybe, your good fortune is going to last forever.

 


End file.
